Normally, I would put a post like this on one of my more esoteric blogs.

But there’s a strong current flowing lately: “integration”. So I’m rolling the strangeness out into the “public face”. If you enjoy it, please check out my other sites. There’s more where this came from… ;)

Message from Oracle about Atlantis, sharing a Meditation experience at the Beach as well as some background on Vesú’s location, and some Ghost Radar.

I’m going to execute some more integration with this post. Trying to pull together some of the items on the list I shared earlier in the week. I’ll put the Ghost Radar at the end, and before that I’ll share the actual message from Oracle. I’ll start, however, with a description of part of my day yesterday, including some info to help explain the significance of Vesú. I can tell this one is going to get quite lengthy, so if you wish to skip ahead to the message from Oracle, just scroll down to the bold title and quotes…

As part of my reaching out to meet people here in Jacksonville and my putting more effort into developing my writing skills, I’ve joined a writing circle here which is a satellite of Women Writing for (a) Change. We’re doing a read-around this coming week, so I’ve chosen to use my Meditation experience as a piece to develop for that meeting. I’ll share that first.

Mickler’s Beach, 22 February 2014

I arrived at Mickler’s and joined the gathering of unknown friends and families, out for a sunny if chilly and windy lounge, celebrating a moment of warmth and high tide.

I had already spent the week feeling particularly bloated and middle-aged (and not currently perceiving these as virtues in any sense), so it seemed a little odd to me that there were about a dozen clusters of equally pale and bloated middle-aged folks on the sand, relaxing back into metal and canvas chairs. I paused, a bit taken aback. There was something odd about how they all looked so similar – and so much like how I felt. And they were all looking at me, from behind their sunshades. They seemed to be together, only pretending to be there as separate groups. (Note to self – I really shouldn’t read an entire Sci-Fi thriller in a single evening, not good for the mind .) After a moment I realized they were actually turned that way so they were facing the sun. Relief.

Regaining my stride I made my way to the water’s edge, noticing there were virtually no shells. Unusual? Maybe not for high tide… But I had come there to collect shells… The wind and choppy water had scalloped the sand and shell layers into low hills, so I walked along them rhythmically, making my way to my favorite spot. Shells started to appear, and I noticed today’s theme offered a few thin, well-worn oyster sheets with holes. I bet Babjij will [nodded] enjoy stringing these into window ornaments…

I found my seat. I had already filled my small plastic tub about a third full. I sat down heavily (like bloated middle-aged women often do) [difference] and took a look around. The water [agree] chopped and swirled under the beating of a mild nor’easter, the surf clashing amongst itself, churning up sand and murkiness. But it was beautiful. The vista to the East was particularly interesting and mysterious, quite layered.

Swathes of gray to dull-orange sand and shells stacked their way to the water’s edge, and there the foam and surf plopped and flapped like watery green pancakes with whipped cream. The sand bar lurked beneath the high tide, casting a golden underlayer to the near surf, and then beyond the water sank into the more dull emerald green of greater depths. Towards the horizon, the clouds hung rather low, not quite touching the chopped white peaks. They kept their distance, but once they found their level, they too joined in with the streaking and smearing of themselves across the sky. Finally, approaching the heavens, they began to fluff and cavort and drift, and the brilliant blue peeking through reminded me that I could find Emptiness in the chaos.

I scooped up some sand and some more shell-coulis into the little container, and as it filled I began to shake and tap it, encouraging it all to settle and make room for more companions. Gazing out over the waves as I tapped, I found myself holding the box with focused intention, and mantras began to play about my lips.

I sat feeling plugged in to a deep powerful circuit of energy flowing from the water and sky into my hands, circulating through my body and out my lips as the gifts from the planet collected their charge and resonated together. I found myself quite far away, hovering out over the surface of the water, just beyond where I could no longer see, and I wanted to stay there. The sound of the waves blended with the wind into white noise that dissolved, and my mind felt drawn out, out, towards the horizon.

I thought of Babjij, and remembered shared moments and connections. How had I managed to forget? It seems I’m good at forgetting when I’d do better to remember, and good at remembering when I’d do better to forget. Now was the moment, however, to just sit. I invited the sea to bless the gifts I planned to send to my dear friend who felt so far away.

I took a deep breath and tried to focus… on what? I had been feeling a bit inadequate in my mindfulness, and quite vulnerable as a result. How far could I stray from a certain path and still know that I was on course? Watching the waves soothed my mind, and I relished the sensation of the breeze rushing through my clothes and around my skin; I could feel strands of chill and warmth, mingled together like strands of cable, cooling and heating me at the same time. I wondered if I was having a hot flash, and if not, how would a hot flash feel, sitting here in the brilliant sun and brisk wind?

Still, I continued the mantras, bringing my attention back to the sounds, the sequence, the significance.

The quiet tug continued. I thought of how the waters flowed together, and my soft gaze caught glints of white somewhere between the water’s surface and the clouds. A ship? A bird? Let it go. Let it go. It didn’t matter. The sand and the shells and the sound mattered. Let the glimmers pass…

Then a dark crescent burst from the chop and splashed. My eyes, distracted, followed the subsiding foam. A dolphin. And again. I tried to keep my eyes unfocused, concentrating on chanting under my breath, and still holding my awareness of movement on the water. It felt like a small pod, maybe just one or two… I expected them to move on down the shoreline, and I returned to my mantras.

But they came back. Or stayed. In any case, it was clear to me that it was no coincidence for them to appear, in light of what I was doing. They frolicked before my half-seeing eyes, and felt a twinge of jealousy.

You can swim and swim, anywhere you want to go, just about… Look, your food is right there, surrounding you! Hello! Hello! You can go up, or down, round and round… And I sit here on the beach watching. I have to buy my food and prepare it. I have to find shelter and spend my days working so that I can maintain that situation. Am I missing something? I’m grateful… But your life seems so simple… I yearn…

I felt their friendliness, their timeliness, and their message. They had come to say hello to Babjij’s sand and shells. And there was something else they wanted me to know, but all I could sense was a light-hearted whisper. More to come…

Eventually the dolphins moved on, and I, like the creaking middle-aged woman that I seem destined to portray, lifted my non-bouyant body and made my way back home.

Shortly after I got home, as soon as I sat down to write, my phone rang and it was a call from a dear friend I had been wishing to talk to that day. I vaguely mentioned my trip to the beach, but the conversation veered more towards how this friend was sensing that something was not quite right with me.

We talked about work, where I’m living now, how I’m trying to balance between what I need to do to keep myself here, and the real reason I’m here. That reason had been escaping me, yet tickling my consciousness as if a long curly hair had drifted onto my bare back. I was frustrated.

The friend asked if I wanted to hear what they might be picking up on about the situation. Of course! Please help!

Are you sure?

Absolutely.

So I listened, nodded, agreed. Yep, spot on.

But what do I do about it? That’s the puzzle.

Of course recognizing the “problem” is the first step… So we accomplished that. Now: What to do when I feel completely flummoxed about how to respond and shift the situation? Generally, I need someone else to chime in with fresh insight.

My friend mentioned that, as part of remembering a role as a scientist in Atlantis, they had identified a spot in the Atlantic Ocean that was also remembered as the location of an Atlantean Temple Complex. We began to speculate about how far that might be from where I live in Ponte Vedra Beach. “Sure,” I said, “I’d love for you to send me a Google Earth link that shows me that location! Maybe it’s nearby!”

We ended the call, and I decided to go ahead and open up Google Earth myself, to pushpin my location so we could compare. I dropped the pin and labeled it “Leslee’s Vortex”, at a place where I always feel drawn to sit – the same place I had sat that afternoon. I emailed a screenshot off to my friend. Pretty soon I got another call.

“Leslee, I got your email, and drew a line from “Leslee’s Vortex” to the Temple Complex. You’re not going to believe this, but it’s due east of your spot.

I talked them through making a screenshot to send to me, and we got that shared, still on the call together.

My spot, give or take a little, is at 30°09’ 54.42”N, 81°21’23.08”W. The Temple Complex location is at 30°09’57.89”N, 79°53’49.52”W. In Google Earth, it’s just west of a crescent shape you can see south of the Stetson Mesa. It’s 87.35 miles from shore.

Pretty exciting stuff! Still… what’s the point? Yes, I know I’m supposed to be here. It’s been referred to as my “Next Assignment”. But why?

All of a sudden, I heard my friend draw a deep breath, almost a gasp, and I recognized that sound. Oracle had arrived.

ORACLE MESSAGE

(This message came from Oracle through a friend yesterday, while we were talking about why I’m in Jacksonville, and what’s happening with Cities of Light… My friend prefers to remain anonymous for now, but has clear memories of having been a scientist in Atlantis…)

“Leslee, your soul has the codes. Your soul has the codes.

“Your friend’s job is planetary balancing; yours is to provide a conduit for energy that is needed to activate locations. Your background in architecture is not accidental. You may not function in this role as an actual architect, because there are others perhaps more skilled at accomplishing that in this instance.

“At this time, what is needed is for you to take your pendulum – the one that is a toroid, looks like a tornado, a vortex pulling downwards – and program the water. Ask to be connected to that energy. Send that energy into the water. Because you know, when you program one molecule of water, it all becomes programmed.

(From Leslee: I went and got it while my friend was talking. It swung wildly in a “yes”: strong agreement with what I was hearing. Meanwhile, as I listened I was reminded of how I had been captivated the previous evening, watching my tea leaves as I swirled my tall cylindrical glass teapot. The herbs and leaves had swirled upwards from the bottom, rather than the water forming a vortex on the surface. I had gotten an image of how a maelstrom generates from the bottom of the ocean, not the surface…)

“That’s your assignment. That’s why you’re here. You can fulfill your assignment by programming the water. Program the entire ocean. Use your right hand. First program the pendulum – the metal and the minerals. Program them with love and gratitude. Intentfully send that energy east, into the Atlantic.

“Ask to receive what you need to receive from the Temple Complex, and transfer it through the sand and the water. Call upon the devas of the sand, the beach, and the water, and the dolphins.

“Send your Heart Codes to the Temple Complex.”

Oracle slipped from prominence, my friend relaxed, and we continued to discuss what had come through. It was suggested that I go into the water to do the programming, and I immediately exclaimed, “Damn! Do you know how cold that water is right now?!?!?”, but my friend persisted.

I guess I’ll be getting some new galoshes soon. It’s raining right now, even thundering and lightning. Energy has shifted. Program one drop of water…

So I intend to do that tonight.

POSTCRIPT: Oops! It totally forot to add the part about Vesu! It feels like this post is long enough, so I will explain more soon…